Afternoon Ballet in Smoke

Something arrived in the mail for me, an unexpected little package from an old and dear friend who I have not heard from in a little while.  Probably you will understand and concur with me when I say that in some cases (though, definitely not all- not in the very very least), that there are some people by whose very mention causes your heart to skip a beat.  I guess in the life of every person, there is bound to be at least one (maybe many, if you're lucky) such individual.

The gift was in the form of incense papers, which I had first thought of getting a while back from Santa Maria Novella (not the original store in Italy, but rather its far and away outpost here in the city), but, when I tried to see it in action, the saleswoman told me the story of how it was against the law (her law, the owners' or the city's, I was not made clear of) to light them inside.  The scent of what was on display was apparent, though faint, and I gave it no more thought until today when I was examining and trying out the papers.

First lit, and giving in to the reverie of an afternoon and lost time, and thoughts of she who gave me the new year's gift, I followed the smoke wafting up as I've never seen it before (though, unfortunately, not caught on camera), twisting and turning, dancing through the air in such an awesome choreography that it appeared a legion of ballet dancers were floating before my eyes.

And, soon enough, sure enough- it was gone.